I need a box.

I need a box. More specifically, I need a bin. Something that I can throw dead manuscripts in, and when the bin is full I can take all the little dead bits of manuscript to a recycler and have them turned into fresh clean paper so I’m going through fewer trees. I have an astonishing number of manuscript parts lyig around my house. Right here, from my desk, I can see 7 manuscripts, 3 of which are dead. They are bad printouts, or they’re edited copies which have been typed into the computer already and so don’t need to be kept. There are at *least* five partial manuscripts downstairs, and one that I know of in the bedroom. None of those is dead, yet, although at least one is on its last legs; I need to take the front page, upon which I have written notes, off, and throw the rest of it away.

Yes. A bin. I need a bin. Or at the very least, a box.